


An Examination of Conscience

by Aequoria



Series: Zines and Events [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Baby Prompto Argentum, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Gen, Grant Applications, Minor Aera Mirus Fleuret/Ardyn Izunia, Prompto Argentum is a Ray of Sunshine, Purposeful Baby Acquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28916778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aequoria/pseuds/Aequoria
Summary: There is one common evil that unites researchers all over the world: finding funding sources.The Niflheim Empire has been short on food since the entirety of Ghorovas froze over. With most government funding being funnelled to agriculture, Verstael Besithia is running out of options to continue his research.When Verstael finds a grant for single parents, he knows he’s struck gold. Luckily for him, he has a lot of experiments he can pass off as his own children.He never expected to get attached.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Ardyn Izunia, Prompto Argentum & Verstael Besithia, Verstael Besithia & Ardyn Izunia
Series: Zines and Events [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618480
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	An Examination of Conscience

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the fantastic zine, [A Father's Love!](https://twitter.com/FatherFfxv?s=20) The zine celebrates all fathers and father figures in FFXV and it was an absolute joy to write. 
> 
> I'd wanted to challenge myself by writing Verstael and Prompto, but then I was really stumped by what to do for them. Luckily, I happened to be writing a funding application for something else and I realised- hey, wouldn't this be a hilarious idea? In the end it turned out more serious than I expected, but I really enjoyed writing this and I'm so excited to finally share it!

“And his name is...?”

“Prompto,” Verstael replied. The thing in his arms squirmed and yawned, and he awkwardly patted it on the head. Immediately, he regretted it; downy blond hair was somehow sticky, _again_ , even though he’d cleaned the baby just before the interview.

“Prompto.” The tired bureaucrat squinted behind her thick glasses, and the baby gurgled at her. For some reason, that made her smile.

“He’s about a year old. That’s what his mother told me when she dropped him at my door.” Verstael smiled thinly. “He is the light of my life now.”

The lady tutted. “It must be hard raising him alone. I’ll approve your grant application. If you could just sign these forms...”

“Of course, of course.” Verstael took the clipboard from her and signed with a flourish, hardly daring to believe that he had actually pulled this off. Now to put the clone back in its box—

“The foundation is committed to ensuring that single parents or carers can continue their scientific pursuits while caring for their dependents, so we’ll be conducting regular home visits. If you need any assistance— occasional childcare cover, other financial needs, please don’t hesitate to contact us.” She looked as though she had recited the same speech millions of times. “We also expect you to attend some of our regular social events, which we hold for the benefit of the grant recipients to get to know each other and have fun.”

Home visits. Social events. “How exciting,” he said through gritted teeth.

“We _have_ had fraudulent applications,” she said. Suddenly, her gaze was sharp as a knife. “People who lied about having dependents. If you are found to be lying— and believe me, we will know— your grant will be immediately rescinded and your name blacklisted from all government funding schemes across the Empire.”

Oh no. _Oh no_. “I understand completely.”

He looked at the baby. Prompto gurgled happily at him and tugged on his goatee with surprising strength.

* * *

Verstael was puréeing carrots when Ardyn dropped by. He sighed, turned off the blender, and turned to look at his visitor.

“Get out. I have no time for visitors today.”

“Rumour has it that Dr Besithia has a son. I must say, he does look _remarkably_ like you,” Ardyn said. He waltzed up to the kitchen and began making himself tea.

Prompto let out an unhappy moan from his high chair.

“He’s not your son.”

“He is,” Verstael said tersely, pouring mushy carrots into a cup.

“I know everything about you. He isn’t.” Ardyn added two, three, _four_ sugar cubes. Pleased, he finally drank.

“Why are you even here?”

“Why, for the first home visit!” Ardyn swept his free arm out with a flourish. “When I found out you were receiving the Parents and Carers Grant, I had to see for myself!”

Verstael sneered at him. “ _Lies_. You’re the Chancellor now, this is outside your remit.”

“I... persuaded those bureaucrats to assign your case to me.” Ardyn looked well-pleased with himself. “And what fortune for you! I would _never_ tell them you simply repurposed one of your horrible little clones, would I? Not unless there’s something in it for me.”

“ _Ah_ ,” Prompto insisted miserably.

“Oh, come now, little one.” Abandoning the tea, Ardyn lifted Prompto into his arms and shushed him. Prompto calmed instantly. “You’re running a temperature. Poor thing.”

“I’ve already taken him to a doctor. What more do you want?”

“You might be giving him medicine, but he needs comfort too.” Ardyn began to hum a lullaby, a deep rumbling purr in his chest. Prompto yawned and snuggled into him, and something in Verstael ached strangely at the sight.

“Why do you even care?”

Ardyn ran a gentle finger over the baby’s face as he soothed him. He didn’t respond for a while, but Verstael was patient. He could wait.

“Habit, perhaps. I was a healer in a past life.” Ardyn kept his eyes fixed on Prompto. It seemed to Verstael that there was an echo of the man he had met that time in Angelgard: Adagium, the forgotten, the lost. The discarded. Verstael had not thought of that man in many years, not since Ardyn had outgrown his usefulness as a test subject.

“Scourge incarnate, meet Scourge incarnate,” Ardyn murmured. “Strange, isn’t it? His is a pitiable, meaningless existence, one of identical thousands, pulled from the mire only on a whim. And yet... and _yet_. Still he strives to live.”

Verstael grimaced. “How very sentimental of you.”

“I am a sentimental man!” And there were the usual dramatics again. Ardyn spun in a quick circle, startling a laugh from Prompto, before he finally deigned to sit at the table with his tea.

Verstael reached out to take his baby back, but Ardyn refused to relinquish him. Instead, he continued his inane humming, echoing Prompto’s meaningless babble as though holding a serious conversation. Giving up, Verstael handed Ardyn the carrots so Prompto could eat.

“He is sweet,” Ardyn said, once they were done. His hand smoothed gently over Prompto’s blond hair, and lingered near blue eyes closing in sleep. “It’s a pity he’s _yours_.”

“If I could give him up, I would.” Verstael wasn’t expecting the fury on Ardyn’s face, lips pulled back in an animal snarl. There was a flash of something darker, something _dangerous—_ but the sleeping child seemed to be enough to keep Ardyn at bay.

“You don’t deserve this child,” Ardyn spat.

“And you do?” Verstael laughed loudly, waking Prompto and causing him to cry. Ardyn shot Verstael an angry look as he worked to soothe Prompto back to sleep.

“You don’t even know how blessed you are,” Ardyn said, once Prompto had settled again.

“Enlighten me, then.” Verstael leaned forward on his elbows. “Why are you so invested in him? Here I thought you’d risen above such quaint human emotions.”

“My feelings are no concern of yours.”

But Ardyn _was_ a sentimental man. As always, Verstael had only to be patient before he got his answer.

“He is so small, so helpless, yet his blood runs thick with daemons. Perhaps someday they shall consume him, but for now, he remains an innocent.” Ardyn kept his gaze low, fixed on Prompto’s sleeping face. “A pure heart, hair like the sun, and eyes like cloudless skies… so much like her. Perhaps, if things had gone differently, we could have…”

He shook his head as if dispelling some lingering memory. Verstael’s eyes slid to the slumbering Prompto, at the small hand clutching Ardyn’s shirt, and thought he could understand.

“Why him?” Ardyn asked suddenly. “What made this one different from the others?”

Verstael looked at Prompto, content in Ardyn’s arms. He looked at the cup of mushy carrots, at the high chair by the table, at the packs of nappies waiting to be put away into the cupboard.

“Nothing,” he said. “They were all the same.”

* * *

Prompto made an interesting experiment. Perhaps because he had been pulled from his tank far earlier than the rest, but his development, initially stunted for a normal human child, soon accelerated at a breakneck pace. He’d started off small for his age and far behind the milestones listed in parenting books, but now he was almost catching up.

“Papa,” he said, attempting to push himself off the floor. It took another try, but he was standing. Verstael put down his research notes. Standing meant Prompto wanted to be picked up.

“Just a moment, Prompto,” he said tiredly, walking over to him from across the room.

Prompto took a step forward.

Verstael gasped, and nearly stumbled at the same time Prompto did. Verstael’s quick reflexes saved Prompto from smacking too hard on the floor, and he held Prompto’s hands gently as the child took his first, wobbly steps.

“That’s it,” he said, something like pride blooming in his chest. “You’re doing wonderfully.”

Prompto managed a few more steps before deliberately sitting down, tired from his new adventure. On a whim, Verstael picked him up and swung him around, and matched Prompto’s bright smile with his own.

“We’ll tell your Uncle Ardyn of your exploits,” he said, and Prompto squealed his joy at the sound of Ardyn’s name. “He’ll be delighted, no doubt.”

Would the clones have laughed like this?

It was an odd thought, but he’d been having more of them recently. What he’d told Ardyn months ago was still true: nothing separated Prompto from the other clones, save that he had been in the closest incubator to Verstael when he’d gotten the idea to apply for the grant.

He imagined Prompto walking in the jerky, erratic movements of his prototype MTs. The image was one that haunted his thoughts for weeks, stealing his sleep and breath alike.

In his dreams, hundreds of small hands reached out for him, and a desperate chorus all of one familiar voice cried, “ _Papa_!”

He opened one tank, and another, and another— but always there were more, more tanks and clones, more reaching arms.

He did not have enough hands to take them all.

* * *

_Research Log: 738-VI-21st_

_The child is showing signs of greater intelligence than I originally predicted. An oversight, considering his genetics. His fine motor control is steadily improving, and although his vocabulary appears still limited, he clearly comprehends my words and actions. The Chancellor has suggested introducing additional reading material. I will begin tomorrow and observe the progress._

_Regarding Deathless, development has slowed despite the looming Lucian threat..._

What more was there to say? It would only be the same as his last research log. Verstael sighed, and his fingers stilled on the keyboard.

He’d been putting off his work for too long.

The grant gave him more than enough funding to keep his lab up and running, even as more and more government resources were being diverted to food production. No one had time to look into what Verstael was doing in his facility. No one save a few junior scientists even knew of his clones, and they would be dead before they could breathe a word of it. No, the clones, the fuel behind the Magitek— they would remain a secret until the opportune moment, lest the true nature of Prompto’s existence be discovered.

It was the perfect time to work. New discoveries were waiting to be made, and yet…

More and more, he felt responsible for Prompto. Not just for the sake of the grant, but even away from prying eyes. Like a researcher to their experiment, he couldn’t help but want to observe him grow and develop.

(Was that still true?)

He could call Ardyn, have him watch Prompto again so Verstael could go to the lab. Ardyn wouldn’t mind. Verstael had test subjects waiting for him, experiments to be run.

“Papa?” Prompto asked. He held a star-shaped block in chubby fingers. He placed it against a triangular hole and looked at Verstael again when it did not fit.

“Observe,” he told Prompto. “Analyse the data, and test your hypothesis. It will bring results.”

“Okay,” Prompto said dubiously, and returned to examining his toy.

Verstael returned to staring blankly at his screen, until the tell-tale sound of a plastic block sliding into the container distracted him, along with Prompto’s shout of triumph.

“When you learn to write, keep notes of your discoveries,” he said. “For now, I will keep them in mine.”

He typed another sentence into his research log.

He thought about just staying in the room, in the comfortable chair, with his son humming softly at his feet, occupied with his blocks. A day spent idly, watching Prompto learn, watching the delight of his childish discoveries, not in the metal laboratories holding tanks of silent, identical children, who gazed at him with empty and accusing eyes.

It would be pleasant, he thought.

And so he did.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this fic, please consider [sharing it](https://twitter.com/pufferbish/status/1352646038599856133?s=20) on Twitter!


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